


Burr Before Aaron

by RoseyStarlight



Series: The Aaron Burr Series [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron is his usual gay self, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Gender Fluid Thomas Jefferson, Kinda, Long, M/M, Nightmares, Other, Pain, Past Relationship(s), Sad, The Author Regrets Nothing, This is mature because Thomas dirty, part of the Aaron Burr series, with comedic breaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseyStarlight/pseuds/RoseyStarlight
Summary: We live each day not thinking of tomorrowto be startled when the sun does riseTo walk along a beach with no clear definitionWhich wave will grow in sizeWe make our moves and live our livesNever thinking, never noticing, what is lostNot until we are remindedDo we see the dream and its cause-I couldn't think of a proper summary so take a poem that kinda summarizes instead! I am a writer after all. This is the second part of the Aaron Burr series. Its basically gonna be a prequel of some drama that's gonna come next. Like a cabinet battle of sorts...Though it is 5000+ words so i'd get comfy before reading <3 Love y'all





	

_July, 2, 1804_

Aaron reads the letter and is furious, surprised, stressed. None of which anything positive and none of them in no standard equal to any sort of patience. If Hamilton was going to play the fool, then Aaron would waste no time in throwing the dagger. Get it done with he tells himself we’ve been waiting for 40 years and all it got us was a tiny room paired with a man with a tinier brain. Aaron stomps to his desk and writes the date and time for the duel, then stomps to the street to put it in a box. On the way, he passes Jefferson and when greeted with hello decides better to flick him off. No point in playing nice anymore. Never got us anywhere and it’s only going to leave Hamilton one place-

He gets out his dueling pistol

-in a hole in the ground.

He begins cleaning furiously.

-

_July, 10, 1804_

It’s today.

Well, tomorrow, but still.

He was up all night wracked with worry and what did he consume to possibly think this was a good idea? _The coconuts_ he supplies _those damn overpriced coconuts_ he bought himself like the ass he was.  Who buys coconuts at an open market? Well of course someone who has nothing else to do. And who challenges a duel to a man that was once a friend? Me. He sighs again. He doesn’t want to get out of bed, doesn’t want to face the world or even his slippers. This is idiotic he thinks, if I move now maybe I’ll get a chance to leave the country and to do all these stupid things somewhere else. Or maybe, he could just create a political party where people don’t have opinions and just lay around and cry all the time and would just vote for whomever might lead to things being done?

But, logically, it would probably wouldn’t get through the electoral college.

And then of course it’s back to Hamilton again. How could he offer a duel with a man who has 8 children? He’s a monster, it’s a fact now, he is no better than Jefferson. Or maybe Madison, though instead of following a purple dish of macaroni he just follows everyone and does nothing. He sighs, he wishes he had someone, here with him and who-

He blinks.

_Theodosia_

-

**Deep in the dark where it’s all right,**

**The thoughts are a message that send out in the night,**

**The dream is not real,**

**the memories false,**

**They’re fake in your eyes and fake in  your thoughts,**

 

They always write poetry to each other, but this is different. He sends it off. She’ll think he’s a madman, but after tomorrow who wouldn’t? He paces and paces and paces, but it does nothing to get the tick out of his eye. So of course, he writes in his journal about his day, then his life and then anything that comes to mind. When he goes to bed, he can’t fend off the feeling that he’s running out of time.

-

_July, 11, 1804_

He is walking toward Weehawken, their agreed upon place of…. _death?_ He takes shaky breath after shaky breath and he never feels like he has enough air. One step after the other, and an army rhythm going in his head. It reminds him of when he used to walk to class, _just step after step until we can go home._ He slept last night, but if felt like he never woke up. Or did he sleep at all? He feels shaky like he’s not all here, though he supposes, that would be expected.

Then suddenly he’s there and somehow not in a puddle of tears, he’s still Aaron burr, after all.

Alexander is there too.

  
Then Aaron sees him and is stuck sudden, in _disbelief._ An utter profound _disbelief._ Has this man a real death wish?

Personally, this morning he took 30 minutes to figure out what to wear and how black it should be. He himself had 50 shades of the color in closet alone and here’s Hamilton.

In debate attire. Bright green petticoat, white breeches, white button down. It curves him nicely.  

Right outside Weehawken, standing right beside death and stopping to say hello and Toot-a-loo.

He’s petty enough so he imagines a conversation,

_How’s life, death?  How about we ignore everything important and we just have a debate on transcontinental agricultural agreements on corn for 5 hours?_

_Oh I rather not Mr. Hamilton, how about we have some tea_

_Oh no, no, no death I possibly could not my tastes are only equated to the bitter taste of expensive ass brandy that burns like a person shoved their face in ass and breathed deeply in because apparently I’m too much of an elitist asshole to realize that dark green petticoats are not the proper attire for a duel like suits are not proper for a club._

_That’s nice Mr. Hamilton_

_Alright now just let me show you this draft of a correspondence I made for you that has every sentence taking up 10 lines._

_How nice Mr. Hamilton._

_Are you a skeleton, Death? Because your looking pretty bone-ly. Get a life._

_Death takes a deep breath and puts his hand together in a prayer position._

  1. _That pun was terrible you should’ve said, lonely death? Get a life_
  2. _This is the worst conversation I’ve ever experienced and Thomas Jefferson has yet to die_
  3. _I’m not even a skeleton I literally come as person in your mind_



_Is the last reason why your so grotesquely infectible?_

_I’m your father_

_Exactly_

Aaron would laugh, mostly because it’s so accurate that he literally sees the death in alexander’s eyes so he assumes this has already happened. However, his sense of humor died with Theodosia, so there’s that.

Though Alexander is still infuriating. Not to mention, the man looks calm, no-reserved and-and _ready._ For God sakes, he looked like he had a good night’s rest. Though to be honest he should’ve had as well, duels in most cases end in agreement but-

He couldn’t be calm about this. He literally just imagined a scene where alexander pissed off death. So, that’s the excuse he uses when he asks-

“Do you want to die?” perfect debate topic.

 It sudden and he doesn’t know why he’s doing this now. Years of letters and correspondence and chances, but Burr needs time, he needs to _know._

Alexander stares at him, apparently thinking hard before answering. “No, but I’m ready to accept it if it does.”

Aaron stares at him, he’s done with waiting.

 “Have you told your children that you _Adam tiler.”_  

_This is ridiculous_

There’s a pause before he continues and he takes a step forward as he does,

“You’ve been ready to die since the first day I met you. I knew. You were too much a fool and eventually you would trip over yourself. I never thought it would be over you wife, laying on the floor setting the bar so low for you. You didn’t slide below it; you didn’t step over it. You tripped over her, then instead of apologizing you explained to everyone else that this was a _personal_ problem that it had nothing to do with your track record, your _politic_ al career. You said this in _front of your wife_ laying on the _floor_ and she loved you, she was satisfied with just having you and your children in your life. You were never satisfied, but you sure got very uncomfortable congratulations from everyone else while your she burned.  But it’s none of my business how the either of you reacted to each other afterword. You proved to everyone that your wife certainly didn’t come first, and everyone thought that was the same for your children too. Though when Philip died it changed didn’t it?” he paused “You weren’t prepared for that; you’ve been through so much and you weren’t prepared.”

 “But I want you think about this long and hard, because you’re in the same place as your son was right now. Don’t ask me how I know”

“Way back when John was still here he fought Lee and from what I understand it was a fight for someone else. Then your son who did it for you. So, I’m asking you right now, who are you doing this for?”

 “What-Who are you so ready to die for?”

Alexander says nothing.

Aaron stares back, is silent for a moment before he continues, “so you’re that willing? That ready to accept death?”

A soft, “Yes”

Aaron grimaces, he doesn’t know why they’re still standing there and their seconds are just being quiet though he continues anyway.

“Imagine your youngest child and imagine walking to them and telling them the same thing.”

Aaron suddenly steps forward, he thought he did that before.

 “I know you, I know how much you cared for your family, even when things soured you were there and you cared. You even tried harder then was necessary; especially after Philip, but I want you to ask yourself even if you’re willing to die, where does that leave them? They are your legacy, but you and I both know what it’s like for your father to not be there and the steps you plan on taking in Weehawken say the same. What’s the worth of honor when you have a loving smiling back at you, with innocent eyes. Do you know what I would’ve _gave_ to be by her side again? You may not die today and I don’t think that I’ll die either, but we came here to have a chance. I don’t think you’re ready to die. I think when you see them again your gonna be reminded of all the good memories and its gonna hurt, your gonna fight. That’s what I think.”

Aaron quiets and alexander’s face is crest fallen. Dark. Sullen.

“What about you?”

Aaron looks at him.

“That girl. The one that you had all those years ago. After the bar, you never told me what happened.” Alexander meets his eyes, “you never said anything”

Aaron looks at him and he understands that this is it where it ends. Their conversation, their friendship, and possibly one of their lives. Aaron gives a hard stare and he can’t wait anymore, so he doesn’t dignify it with a response and says,

“When you ready, Mr. Hamilton” and he walks into the clearing.

He’s one step in when he crumbles, he’s Alexander. He closes his eyes and sees Philip, his youngest. He sees him and nothing makes sense anymore, nothing seems worth it. All this time he’s been running. He’s been running, sprinting, fighting ahead and now…. now what does it matter? He sinks to the ground and his second comes near. Asks if he still needs more time. He replies with a face full of regret and ask for 5 more minutes. He clutches his own chest and takes a deep breath and listens. He waits and waits and prays and it’s something he’s never done before; he’s gone to church every Sunday but he never waited at the door. He thinks of Philip again, except his face is interchangeable as the eldest and youngest. He feels that when this day ends the picture he has in his mind of both of them is the last he will see of them. His time is up, it’s never enough. He walks opposite Burr; he wishes for more time. He writes a last soliloquy in his mind. He thinks he sees his love ones on the other side. He wishes he had Eliza at his side. He wishes he could say goodbye. He’s raising his gun to the sky and it all turns _black_. _It’s not supposed to be this way._

Aaron opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes up. He didn’t shoot, he didn’t, but he sees the bullet pull through. He wants to scream, but he can’t say anything, the sound won’t come out. He’s both, _he’s both of them._ He feels the pain of the bullet and the same but different pain of firing it. It’s a regret on both ends. Alexander’s still alive, barely. Its painful so crippling and it threatens to destroy him. He’s stuck to the spot he can’t move. So much regret. It didn’t change anything he didn’t- why-

_He could’ve-it didn’t change anything._

_Everything’s so fast and it’s over and he’s dead and-_

There’s glitter.

“are you ok?”

_What_

_Too much. Too much._

He opens his eyes and Thomas Jefferson is standing right _there._ He’s still in the office? He’s in a chair. There is glitter in his hands.

“Aaron, darling, I’m not asking again”

Aaron looks at him, he’s kneeling beside the chair. There is no glitter on him.

“How am I here?” he asks

“You went to walk past my office and looked at me, then fainted right on the spot”

“Why”

“I have no idea” he sets his head on his hands, “but I suppose it’s because I’m so _gorgeous_ ” he winks

Aaron stares at him “How did this stuff get on my hands?”

Thomas shrugs.

He’s breathing hard. So, it hasn’t happened yet? He has more time. Thank God.

His wish came true. _He has more time._

Aaron sinks back to the chair and for the first time in a while, lets himself relax. He doesn’t feel much of a change and it’s a little awkward, sitting right next to the President of the United States with glitter in his hands…how unusual.

Aaron feels like talking.

“So how are you Mr. president” He smiles

Thomas smiles back, “Pretty decent, after reading the newspaper”

“that’s nice” he smiles more

“would you like to see?” Aaron nods

When he gets up, Aaron is reminded how tall he his. He wonders if the hair adds to the height or just his personality? Aaron doesn’t know why he’s thinking this. He shifts in his seat.

Thomas brings him the paper and smiles _“talk less”_

Aaron looks at him for a moment, he thinks he’ll read it in a minute when-

“To be honest I thought, _smile more_ followed, not a _shot to the chest_ ”

Aaron’s face goes numb and he can’t _breathe._

-

Aaron wakes with a start and he’s breathing hard and of course he is he’s just had a stroke _. And he’s been shot._ Or he just died from shock.  Or he just shot _someone. He shot alexander._ Everything hurts and everything’s black, he’s panicking its-his-

His eyes are closed.

He thinks so, and he’s laying down…in his bed? He pets the comforter and it’s there, he feels his pillow. It’s still dark and he has to remind himself that _of course its dark open your eyes dumbass. OK._ Ok.

He does. It’s his ceiling, plaster not a moldy wood and he looks at his hand and there’s no blood.   

He takes a shaky breath and reminds himself-

_My name is Aaron Burr… 22… living in New York state._

_Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Marie Lafayette, and Herc are all alive; they are my friends._

_Alexander, no_ Alex _is alive, I didn’t shoot him._

He breathes a sigh of relief and the tension in his body goes out. He sits up, his head is still feeling fuzzy so he closes his eyes for a minute more.

_My name is Aaron. I have anxiety and a weird ass personality. I’m also super gay._

_And I like big-_

_Memes I like memes and-_

_I’m such a goofball. A blogger. I love overpriced coconuts and open markets._

_I have a sense of humor._

_I’m an ambivert._

Aaron opens his eyes again. He’s a little better.  

“that” he takes a breath “was the worst dream”

  _What happened to being a sexy librarian? Jesus_

He breathes “flirting with Alex at my job would’ve been way better than _that.”_

And Alex oh god.

He lets himself close his eyes again. Hug himself, breathe a little deeper.

The thing about nightmares is they trick you into thinking that the monsters followed you after waking up.

It makes both his heart and his chest hurt, he rubs his hands to try to rub away the blood, he squeezes the tears away and holds on to _himself,_ remembers.

_Alexander Hamilton. Alex-ander Hamil-ton.  The most perfect human name, he sings it in the shower._

_He’s alive. He’s your dubious crush and the both of you know it._

_You could never hate him and he could never hate you._

_You went to a Halloween party with him and then went trick or treating afterwards._

_When he found out you were gonna be Peridot he changed his outfit from sexy librarian to lapis lazuli just so he could flirt with you and watch_ Steven Universe _with you till 3 in the morning._

_To tease you he slides old play girl magazines under your door we have no idea how he got._

_When you asked him whether Pokémon moon or sun was better he said moon just so he could say that it was because we were the earth and he revolved around us._

_He bought you double dark fudge ice cream as a surprise a week ago._

_He was there when you cried because of a panic attack and accepted when you couldn’t tell him why._

_You didn’t shoot him. You’ve never held a gun in your life._

Aaron opens his eyes and there’s tears, but he feels warm. He feels better. This is real.

_Dreams are meant to get rid of bad baggage. That’s all it was. It was nothing real._

 “I know that duh it’s just…it felt so personal”

**¯\\_(** **˚** **ˆ˚** **)_/¯**

Aaron laughs he has no idea how he created that mental image.  

He pauses “but…Jefferson…?

Aaron swings his legs over the bed and gets up and paces. _Thomas Jefferson._ Who? He feels like he knows him, but not since a long time.

“Ok. So, who is he?” Aaron stretches his arms and thinks,

_He was at the beginning of the dream, but his role was insignificant…_

_In the end, he turned out to be this terrifying monster…?_

_In the beginning, he_ looked _familiar, in…in the end…the face was different…_

_The whole last part didn’t feel real though…._

_Despite not knowing his pronouns he knows they’re he/him…_

(realizing how stupid that sounds he berates himself and immediately switches back to they/them)

_When he flipped them off he felt a memory_

_Or something_

_They’re not evil._

He scratches his head getting more confused by the minute so he closes his eyes to try and remember better.

_He saw their face and he thinks he saw it clearly_

_Marie! They looked like them in the beginning …though...their face was distorted in that later part._

_Anyway, they were standing there…. they had dark skin, a bright purple coat on…. or was it maroon?_

_There was glitter in his hands…_

Oh! He runs down stairs practically tripping over his own feet on his way down, he gets there safely though. Closet, closet….

_come on brain think of things,_

_come on brain think of things…_

_I remember it’s in the bottom of the closet._

_No not that one. To the right. Your other right. No, the other right wasn’t right I meant your military right! Oh my god just go left. Yeah the ratty one-_

He starts digging through his closet and he finds it, the purple shoebox from his dream. It was at the very bottom of his closet. For some reason when he originally passed by Jefferson’s…office? Bedroom? Lab-thing? The man had glitter in his hair and a purple shoe box in his arms.

And here it is, in Aarons, and suddenly everything comes back.

-

_January 15 th 201X_

_He was the janitor that only came on Thursday and who always looked gorgeous._

Aaron was midway through taking down his New Year’s celebratory decorations when he came by. Aaron’s back was turned, he was trying to reach a string decoration Lee had hanged for him as a New Year’s Eve’s prank, it was pink and said _daddy’s little girl._ Aaron swore that sometimes he wonders why he put up with him.

Though he had forgotten something crucial. There was a new janitor today.

The door opened and there was a soft question,

“Good evening, do you have any trash?”

Aaron was facing a wall, but he blushed anyway, too afraid to turn around, and says, “y-yeah it’s in a pile right over there”

They reply, “thank you darlin’”

Aaron can’t help the shiver down his spine, it’s getting kinda warm in here…

“you need any help with that, sugar?”

“um” Aaron solidly replies, “maybe? It’s a little too high for me”

“Ah” The mystery person replies

“wait!” says Aaron

They stop.

“before we continue what are your pronouns” he says against the wall

Aaron can feel their staring, “you say that like its somethin’ sexy”

Aaron is frazzled replies” n-n-o I m-meant-“

“sometimes from day to day even, it’ll go from He/Him to They/Them”

“ok so…”

 “He/Him right now, sweetness”

He hears him step up behind him and Aaron turns around and straight up _gapes._

He’s tall. A tall bean. So, tall. Like 5 feet higher than him. He’s still in shock when he hears the laughter.

“I’m not that tall, honey, but I appreciate how cute you are about all this”

“I-uh I-I um Y-yeah the-that” more giggles

This is torturous, he’s standing close to him too. He’s getting the string thing down for him, he’s _reading_ it. Why is he reading it? Aaron can’t remember. Aaron feels about ready to be absorbed by the void when this man says to him-

“daddy’s little girl huh? Oh, and I bet you’re a good one too” and he _winks_

Dead, yep. Aaron is no longer alive. He has entered the alternate realm of existence. He has done it; he should have listened to the tumbler posts. This is it. He has lost use of the human language. What language? What do?

In the end the man giggles some more at Aarons flustered nature, and gets the rest of his trash. He asking whether Aaron wants to, _throw away this adorable little daddy string-up_ , Aaron nods and is met with a pout and giggle.  When he’s done, he walks back to Aaron and tells him he’s the janitor here and that _you can call me Thomas, darling._ He then proceeded to kiss on him both cheeks and says something coy in French like _how sweet_ or _cutie_ and then leaves, Aaron manages to move and closes the door and he collapses.

He’s lays on the floor for 30 minutes trying to compose his thoughts and tries to take in the image of this _man._ He was tall, too tall and too gorgeous. He had hair that was circumference of a disco ball and the volume from a shampoo commercial, it was ridiculous. He pats his own mostly shaved head self-consciously, but can’t picture himself with that much hair.  He had sharp cheek bones and hard intelligent, seductive eyes, they were brown. His entire face looked like something carved from Michelangelo, while being the richest shade of brown he has ever seen in another human being. He couldn’t tell that much from his body, other than he was tall. The janitor uniform hung loose on him, but there was unmistakably glitter on his shoulders, chest, and hair. Aaron wouldn’t allow himself to look lower. He had some makeup on, it suited him.

He stayed there for a couple more minutes before running to Lee and telling him everything. He feels like a gossip girl.  Then they both ran to Washington and demanded he know who he was, Washy responded by holding down Aaron’s shoulders so he would stop shaking so hard, and then got him a drink of water. He got Lee to calm down with a look. He’s a dad that’s a fact. Though Washy told them that there’s not much to tell. Just that when he came in for the interview he was covered in glitter and kept looking at George like he stole something, though George restated and said more accurately that it was more like Thomas wanted to steal _George_. Which at that Aaron proceeded to practically faint from the ridiculous nature of it all. Lee kept trying to get Aaron to ask the mysterious man out.

Thought that wasn’t _all of it._

At Valentine’s day, he managed to pull together the courage (along with Lee’s pushing) to bring chocolates to this man. He told himself it was because he needed to repay him for helping clean his room. Washy gave him the room number where the supplies were, so it was 6:00 and he was _making my way downtown walking fast something past and I’m home bound_

“do do do do do do” he breathes “calm down calm down”

He had put the chocolates in an old shoebox and painted it purple, most because of the purple glitter that was all over him on that day and because Aaron didn’t want him to see the Nike label. The Thomas person looked more like someone who would wear 10-inch red stiletto’s then tennis shoes. He knocked on the door and Thomas answered, he was in work clothes already, Aaron sputtered for 30 seconds before giving him the box. Thomas took it and smiled though he looked…different. More tired. It-

He fainted onto Aaron as he was starting to summon the courage to ask what’s wrong. See, Aaron isn’t a small man or so he likes to think. He can carry things for longer periods of time.  One time he was so lazy he carried all his grocery to his kitchen in one trip. If you asked him he would tell you that he lost at least a few pounds during, but now though. Thomas covered him like a giant glittery sexy teddy bear. While panicking about being stuck he was also worried if the man was ok. _Was he allergic to chocolate? Has he been sleeping?_

_..._

_Am I that ugly?_

He winces a the last one.

Eventually he wiggles out and drags the man to the in-library infirmary. He knew that place would be a good idea, he suggested it himself.

_You never know when an elderly person could drop on their feet._

He may or may not might have received a lovely little look from Washy afterwards. Though he apologized profusely for miswording his intentions. Washy laughed and gave him a bear hug. It was nice.

 Though now, Aaron had grabbed Thomas by his shoulders he couldn’t help brushing his hair and it was _so. Soft._ It was like brushing against a pillow made of satin and feathers. He had to fight the temptation. Eventually he made it, sweaty, but determined and told the nurse the situation. There was diagnosis and it turned out he was just hung over and dehydrated. Aaron didn’t like this and got him the water himself. When he woke up he was thankful and overly so. Smiling at him and making Aaron turning every shade of pink and red imaginable.

Thomas also flirted with him, so it was nice too.

In the end he accepted the chocolate and thanked him for it as well as the infirmary and _the gracious opportunity to be in your presence._ It was sweet, and afterward Aaron went back to work with a smile and some chocolate on his lips. Lee wolf whistled for weeks after.

Though after valentine’s day there was the purple shoebox in his room with Thomas’s phone number inside and when Aaron went to the supply closet later to ask him why, he wasn’t there. Aaron went to Washy and asked him where he was and George responded by giving him Thomas’s letter of resignation. Aaron’s heart broke a little that day, but he still had his number although he kept forgetting to text him so he hid it in his closet.

And Aaron never could get the glitter out of his hands. (or his brain apparently)

-

It’s a good memory, while a bizarre one. He’s blushing while asking “but why add him to the dream?”

_And why flip him off? That seems rude_

*Aaron can’t argue this with himself so he opens the box and the number is still there, there is also a cockroach and he practically dies with fright.  

*after consoling himself for many minutes straight he opens box and quickly takes out the little bit of paper with the number on it

“ho boy”

*after getting it he duck tapes the cockroach-box and puts it in a trash can and runs upstairs

*half way he stops and asks aloud

“shoot! Is it a work day?”

He pulls up his phone and sees it’s the 21st.

_Naw we good._

 “cool beans”

_Speaking of beans how about enchiladas so. Hungry._

*Aaron reenters his room and pauses looks in a random direction

“maybe…chipotle? Or maybe something more healthy?”

_Healthy…healthy…. A salad! Panera bread chicken saaaaaled._

*he sits on his bed

 “but I don’t feel like human interaction today…maybe just a homemade salad”

_Though I could call them….?_

 “ha nope that’s worse than going in person”

*he settles on his bed phone and number in hand

_Psst maybe you could go to chipotle instead and get the enchilada psssst_

Aaron ponders, “maybe I could…”

_Yes_

“go get…”

_Yes Yes!_

“A pastry from Panera later…”

_No!_

“two pastries”

_…_

 “yeah those chocolate ones for a dollar”

_I’ll cook the saaaalad and the chicken at 11 and the I’ll let the chicken cool, then at like 12 I’ll get the pastries._

*Aaron nods and sits cross-legged on his bed and puts the number in his phone  

*then he hesitates

“should I do this?”

….

“I can’t answer myself If I don’t know what the answer is…”

_Alex_

“well this isn’t nothing romantic and I’m just wondering how he is…that spark is gone.”

*He texts the number and thinks for a second that maybe he should call, but he’s not strong enough for that. Hopefully Thomas won’t think he’s a spam bot.

_Even though those are mostly on Tumblr._

_He starts texting._

**Me: Hello?**

There’s a moment before there’s a ping

**Unknown: yes?**

**Me: its Aaron**

**Unknown: this is a private number sweetie**

**Me: I know you gave me this**

**Me: about 3 years ago in a show box I gave you?**

**Unknown: you want a private show?**

**Me: nno I meant shoe box not show**

**Me: It was on valentine’s day**

**Me: oh jeez**

**Me: this was a bad idea imsorry for bothering**

**Unknown: no! wait!**

**Me:  I’m sorry**

**Unknown: don’t be sorry sugar**

**Unknown: so, are you that librarian?**

**Me: yeah**

**Unknown: ohhhh**

**Unknown: why didn’t you text me all that time ago :C**

Aaron fumbles to respond

**Me: its just I for got to text you and then I kept forgetting so I put the box in my closet**

**Unknown: your closet?**

**Me: yeah and then last night I had this really weird dream where you were my boss**

**Unknown: your boss**

**Me: actually, you were the president**

**Unknown: the president? Oh that sounds like a very fun dream <3**

**Me: yeah and then I remembered your number and the glitter and then now im texting you now or something**

He doesn’t respond for a minute, Aaron is nervous.

**Unknown: honey**

**Me: yeah**

**Unknown: has anyone ever told you that you’re the cutest little thing**

**Unknown: I would kiss you right now if I could**

Aaron sneezes

**Me: oh**

**Me: um so do you wanna be my friend or something?**

**Unknown: sure sweetness all my friends call me Thomas**

**Me: okay**

**Me: all of my friends call me Aaron**

**Unknown: well Mr. Aaron I gotta go to work now, darlin, so just text me when you want to talk again ok?**

**Me: okay**

**Unknown: bye now <3**

Aaron lays down on his bed, that was an experience.

**Add unkown as contact?**

**Yes                         no **

**Nickname?**

**Thomas Glitterpants**

**Confirm decision**

**Yes                         no**

 

Aaron stretches his arms and rubs his face. He’s not sure where the spark is at this point, though the one thing he knows for certain is that he’s getting those chocolate pastries now rather than later.  

**Author's Note:**

> *Adam Tiler- A pickpocket's accomplice; the person who takes the goods a pickpocket steals and leaves (from Wikitionary)
> 
> 5,000 words over! Congrats! You made it, and you can wholly expect a confrontation between Thomas and Alexander maybe later...  
> So Comments, Kudos are always appreciated! My Tumblr is Skelesister if you want to drop in an Ask! I love you all. Have a wonderful day! be safe lovelies.  
> \- Daisy


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